Life as Animal Food by Dean Winchester
by Joby87
Summary: A "pentagram" aka a Supernatural Condom, means protection for all you Satan-fearing people. Of course, it won't protect you from Satan. My brother and I know from experience Lucy's going to kick your ass regardless. But it can save you from his henchmen!
1. Lesson One: Life as a Hunter

**Hi Guys! So this time, I decided to spice things up a bit with a little bit of comedy and quirk! If you can even call it that! O.o Read on if you dare! Warning for language!**

**Inspired by a quote in a review I've received by none other than the quirky, hilarious, and most insightful _Yohko Bennington_. This is for you girl! You cannot tell me you didn't see this coming! ;)**

**Warning: Spoilers for seasons...hell, all seasons! **

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**_Life as Animal Food_**

_By Dean Winchester._

~o()o~

Hello, dear fellow and unfortunate reader!

Pay attention!

What you're looking at is possibly one of the most valuable, and influential manuals that any human being –and I use this term loosely- will ever come across. Love it! Cherish it! Lock it in a safe and keep the key close, because after you're done with this, you'll want to keep it handy—that is of course…if you want to survive…

Have I gained your attention yet?

Good.

The name's Winchester and I am a hunter.

No, not the type where he –or she- stand in the back of a truck and shoot Bambi while at sixty miles an hour. Why? Because one, I have too much respect for Bambi; and two, what is dear Billy-Bob gonna do when Bambi decides to grow extra long teeth, claws, and an eat-your-heart-out attitude without my skills and knowledge?

That's right…nothing. So Billy-Bob, I do hope you're done sticking your peashooter 12-gauge out of your ass and is listening, because you would be virtually screwed if ever Bambi does decide to come looking!

To simply put it, you're reading the one and only guide, comprised of _five lessons_, to hunting the Supernatural—hunting real monsters that walk, stalk, and have covert operations on this Earthly plain. And you can bet your sweet ass, we as the human race, are all on the menu!

So without further ado, I give you, the not-so-instructional idiot's guide to hunting the unnatural. And no, I'm not referring to the unnatural as in the three litters of kittens your cat just shit out. Cats breed like Wildfire. Get over it!

Throughout this guide, I'll give you a piece of the life my brother Sam and I live with on a daily basis. It's not a cookie-cutter life, nor is it sweet! Just be glad you have a roof over your head and working locks…though that won't help you any.

Plus I'll also go over some of the main adversaries. Surely I won't be able to cover all of them, because honestly there are way too many to count. Just look up _Monsteropedia_, and you'll get a clue. But I'll only list the few and many Sammy and I track, discover, and as some people might say, _bust a cap in their ass _every _fucking_ day!

And I'll be the first to tell you that your nightmares…yeah, they're real. Plain and simple. My father –God Rest his Soul- would probably filet me alive knowing that I'm telling you this…but considering we're all going to Hell someday, I might as well prepare you on what to do if -_and when_- Hell comes bursting through your front door one night.

Yep, you name it. Vampires. Werewolves. Changelings. Wendigos (_I know what you're thinking: what the fuck is that? Look em' up in the Anazazi legend catalog and stay near fire, and don't piss off Smokey!_). Demons. Angels. Ghosts. And the list goes on and on. They're all real…but the best part is, they all can be _killed_. Part of my memoir/manual is to tell you exactly how to spot these bitchy creatures and how to put a bullet in between their eyes!

Now there are a few obvious ones out there that are not real… *cough* David Copperfield *cough*… and most of them you can find as action figures at your local toy store. For instance:

**Tooth Fairy…**

…Nope, sorry kiddies. The only thing you'll ever find in regards to the Tooth Fairy in this day and age is a drunken homeless man wearing a tutu that'll drill out and take all your teeth. But at least he does leave the quarters…I've counted thirty-seven so far…

However, there are real fairies out there, and they make you believe aliens abduct you. When in reality you're taken as slaves for Candy-Land! But that's okay. All you gotta do is pizza-roll them in the microwave, and E.T. your way back home!

**Godzilla…**

…Come on, you gotta admit, seeing a freaky-ass giant Lizard take on the Empire State Building…and win! That'd be so cool! Don't ask me how to take on this dude! *_scratches head_* You got me there!

**Sasquatch…**

…Let's face it boys and girls, there are a ton of hairy douchebags with claws out there…but this guy! Unless he's a girl-drink drunk who loves Skin-Mags that continually robs the downtown liquor store, _he_…_does_…_not_…_exist_. Cuz if he did, I would have heard about it by now. *wink*

**Santa…**

…Yep, fake. _Totally fake_. Trust me, I know! I've only ever looked for the guy for nine years, and had to cover for the bastard by lying to my kid brother, saying that the presents I stole from a girl's house down the street was from the fat cookie-eating lard! The bitch owes me a Malibu Barbie, FYI.

The legend of Chris Cringle still sticks…but you won't ever see a fat guy slide down your chimney with a shit-ton of presents…unless its your neighbor dressed up all in red as he leaves your mom's room when your dad comes home and proceeds to think the only way to escape the wrath of said dad is by getting stuck as the chimney sweep. Too bad he didn't think about the back door!

…And last, but certainly not least…fucking **Teletubbies!**

…Well, for the time being, we'll keep the **TB's** in the monster category, and I suppose for that matter, that damn **Fabric Softener Teddy Bear** too. Come on! You cannot try to convince me that they're not creepy! With those large, bulbous, I-Will-Never-Blink Stares!

Bingo! Now officially on my hit list!

Okay, intro's spent. Let's get started, shall we?

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**Lesson One: Life as a Hunter.**

"_It's like a freaking frat party of supernatural creatures. 'Hey, let's go to Bobby's house. There is fresh Hunter A La Carte and Angel Chicken Wings.' Yum. Yum._" ~**_Yohko Bennington_**

The above statement was given by a dear friend of mine –who I just recently found out has weird obsessive thoughts about me either naked or is nearly turned into a shisk-ca-bob- and what she says hits the mark!

This is no cakewalk!

Seriously, if you ever consider becoming a hunter after this, I will personally make a trip out of my way to find you, and beat some sense into you! This is for your benefit. This is not a promotion.

In this section, you'll find the nitty gritty basics in **Being a Hunter 101**. Basically all the crap you're gonna need to know if ever you want to face Barney Badass with an affinity for mystical powers…or you can continue to be part of the fifty percent of the population who likes to remain dumb. It's your choice… ;)

No joke! Sammy can attest to this, the life sucks! You don't get paid. You hardly get laid! You're constantly labeled as crazy –of course, I don't deny that. You're incessantly avoiding the cops. And the myriad and sometimes creative insults are just icing on the cake.

Now I've received my fair share of insults throughout my lifetime. Sam has too! Stuff like "You're Gay", "Jerk", or being even referred to as douchebags like "Emperor Palpatine" or "John McCain". But I think my personal favorite would have to be "You're a maggot inside of a worm's ass." How much lower can ya get than that?

So really? The charm never stops in the job.

And the only benefit, maybe, is that you feel good on the inside for saving a life or two (because, let's be honest, that's the only reason why I haven't called up the nuthouse and have myself checked in with padded walls and extra bars). Because there are innocent people out there who do need our help…and since we have a whole arsenal of badass weaponry, might as well put em' to good use!

Okay, that's another benefit. You get to carry a gun, kill the bad guy, and you get to blow shit up! Win. Win.

However, trying to be the American badass for all your life…it gets old after a while. I know! My brother and I have been hunting since infancy, ever since a demon snuck into our house and killed our mom. The fugly bitch bought it years down the road…but the problem was we were exposed to the Supernatural world. And once that taste is in the back of your mouth, you might as well accept it. 50,000 gallons of mouthwash won't even get rid of it! I tried!

That was a gruesome night for us. Our lives had changed in the course of a single moment. A demon, a dude by the name of Yellow-Eyes –I know, really? How catchy?- came into my brother's nursery one night. My mom had passed by and saw someone standing over Sammy's crib. And my mom was a fighter. Once realizing it wasn't my dad, she had come in to stop it. Now I don't know exactly what had happened –I was four at the time- but my Dad raced into the nursery after hearing her scream. He found her on the ceiling, eviscerated, and in near-death.

Freaked out yet? Hope not, because it gets even gorier.

Not only was she pinned like a rag doll after Sue-Ann goes all Hoodoo, but the demon then set her on fire, encasing the entire house all in a blaze. My dad handed me my then infant brother and had ordered me to run out the door, while he tried to pull my mom off the ceiling.

Needless to say, he wasn't successful.

It pains me deeply to write this. And usually I would be caught dead talking about her like this, since it took me a good twenty-two years to open up about her. But in all seriousness, now that I'm well into my thirties, I think my mom would want me to mention it, stress the point that there are evil beings out there, and they won't just stop at pinning mothers onto ceilings and burning them like a fucked up version of a stake! There are monsters out there –even humans- that love to torture, love the sight and smell of blood, love flesh. And for a lot of them, at the mere sight of you, the dinner bell's ringing!

So as a brave man from the Hood once said: Hide your kids. Hide your wives. Hide your husbands, cuz they _eating_ everybody!

Alright! That was a little doctored up, but you get the gist!

And that brings me to my next point; another reason why we've done this for all these years. Two things: **Revenge**, and **My Dad**. Still love the man, though he did drive my brother and I nuts from time to time. But ever since he personally saw my mom flambéed, he took it upon himself to exact that sweet revenge. And if I could do it over, I would follow him again, knowing what I know now. Sammy wouldn't be so inclined, but he's gotten over it.

My dad was a Marine. **Semper Fi!** And he taught me everything I know and then some. I mean, I won't be coy about it I worshipped the guy. He knew his shit. He taught us how to hold a gun, how to work it, how to clean it, how to hunt and track using military tactics, how to survive in seemingly impossible situations (that's how we're still whole and alive and kicking today…albeit barely), and how to escape out of dangerous circumstances (like the time my brother and I were kidnapped by a damn shapeshifter and we had to McGyver our way out of it…or when we were cornered in by the Feds in that bank in Milwaukee. Shit! I shouldn't have told you that! All well! The guy's dead anyway!). So the best thing, really, is if you have a Marine on close-hand…take notes!

Plus, my dad also was extremely resourceful…and so you should be too. Now I'm not saying you should do this, but he was pretty skilled at Hustling. Hey! Hunting the Supernatural is not exactly a Pro-Ball career, and you gotta eat sometime. Besides, fun or work! I'm leaning towards the fun way of making money! You need to know how to bluff anyway…because that will come into play much later on; especially in fooling the cops into giving you answers that might help you solve a particular case.

What my dad envisioned as the glorious life of hunting nasty monsters weekend and week-out, ended up being cheesy motel rooms and bad roadside diners for Sammy and I. He took us all over the country, finding dead-beat towns, the insane and the dead in those towns, and went about detective work in solving who the culprit was and chopping their head off. So I guess all those crappy police shows –there are over a good three hundred of them now. Take your pick- pay close attention to some of the questions they ask, how they differentiate human from non-human evidence, and overall what exactly makes the crime _human_. In most cases, it's pretty damn obvious. But in others, not so quite.

Hey! It takes years to develop these kinds of skills. Most Americans don't have the time, patience, or funds to do this—especially in this damn economy. So really, think about the long-term consequences before you consider the life.

Now if ever you do find yourself in a petty predicament where a supernatural creature stalks into your house, either slashes you or your family, and you're left with what we had? Yeah, first things first…you need to acquire a weapon. _Grenade_ or _Bazooka_ would be better. But if need be, a _bowie_ _knife_ and or _.45_ will work just fine!

(Don't worry: I'll let you know which weapons to use on each creature. But for starters, either a knife or gun will work!)

Second off, you need to learn how to _use_ the designated weapon. Amateurs only make it so far. Just ask my late buddy, Ritchie! So if I were you, I'd pay a membership fee for the local gun-training, weapon specializing YMCA, because, trust me, if you're caught in hand-to-hand combat against a witch, demon, or the like without fully knowing how to use your weapon…then, you might as well splash some seasoning over your bad self and stick your hiney-hole into the oven and/or grill…because a juicy sirloin is basically what you're about to become. Comprende!

Thirdly, you need to know the certain methods of protection. Charms work, typically ones in the form of a pentagram (The **pentagram** actually means "protection" for all of you Satan-fearing people. That's right! It's a Supernatural Condom! Besides, it's really not going to protect you from Satan himself. My brother and I know from experience that Lucy is going to kick your ass regardless. But the charms can protect you from his evil henchmen! ;) )

Also, you're gonna need a crap ton of **salt**! Salt! Salt! Salt! Chisel it into your forehead if need be.

Yes, and I do mean, the condiment. Not Angelina Jolie. You see! Those little shakers do have another purpose!

Believe it or not, those tiny Sodium-Chloride particles actually dispel most spirits (i.e. pissed-off ghosts), demons, witches, and Succubae…I think! Whatever! It's saved our asses more times than we can count.

So wherever you are, encircle yourself within a ring of salt –and no demon or ghost can touch you. Apply the salt on your windows, beneath your doors, or around your Devil's Trap (*more info on this in Lesson Three). It's a sure thing….

…Unless a freaking storm punches out the damn window and blows the ring to smithereens. This has happened to me…*pauses while counts*…two hundred and thirty-eight times. So my advice to you, keep the container near. In fact, build it a harness on your belt. You never know.

Also it would be a good idea to update those language skills…in this case, you might want to refresh upon that Latin. Huh? What did I just say? Yup! Clean out the wax in those ears, because I'm not stuttering. _Latin._ The only way to blast a demon back to Hell is to give an exorcism…and they are all in that dead language!

*Pats finger against chin* Though I haven't tried it in Pig-Latin. **_Memo to self_**: use Pig-Latin on Meg next time you see her!

So you see? There's a lot to it.

**Recap**: weapons and weapon training. My Dad kept an entire volume of guns and knives and a few artillery, that I know is illegal in all fifty states but Puerto Rico, and he had trained my brother and I on how to fight…American-style, not pseudo kung-fu style by Jackie Chan. Funnily enough, most hunters don't think they're going to get that close. Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news for ya there sport, but sometimes the clowns with the angry hairdo do actually gain the hand up, and if you don't know how to throw a single punch…then what the fuck are you doing here?

Keep those protection charms and spells (if you know any) on standby. Almost all of the time, you're going to need it for yourself, your family, and on occasion, your car. My Baby is packing 24/7. Don't hate.

And remember to practice those Latin speaking skills. Trust me! No demon is going to mess with your ass harshly once you got the skills. Peace out Buttercup!

And lastly, this is the most important point and tactic that every hunter needs to know. DON'T LOSE YOUR HUMANITY!

You lose that; in my eyes, you're no longer human. What I mean by that is sometimes hunters may become obsessed with the job. To the point where nothing is important to them anymore, but tracking down and killing off Bobo. They dismissed their family –some of whom I met actually uses their family as bait. Others have no friends, therefore lose their social skills and literally become outcasts…which doesn't help the whole sociopath theory. And those who do become consumed by the hunt are nothing more but machines with no conscience, and soon forget what they were fighting for in the first place.

In the beginning for our family, it was revenge for our mother. But even after we had our revenge in frying the sucker, we continue to fight, to hunt, and have lost our former lives, for a better cause and that was to save the human race. Yeah, I know, lame and clichéd answer, right? But we found a better reason for continuing this harrowing and life-sucking job. YOU! We stick with it to save you guys! To prevent certain families from going through the same thing ours did. And that in itself is worth fighting for. Most other hunters forget that…and eventually become enemies of humanity.

Now I'm not going to mention any names, but there was a guy –who was, and still is, really close to me- that did that, became someone else; became a monster so-to-speak. He soon realized his ways and made a complete 180…but the damage he had created was irreparable. Still to this day, he continues to strive to make amends, redeem himself for what he had done. I've already forgiven him. But he still has yet to forgive himself. And honestly, I doubt he ever will.

Ooh, we're getting deep here! Let's move on to the creatures and how to kill them, eh? Get ready ladies and gents, this is where the fun starts…

**TBC?**

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**So? What do you think? Keep going and have Dean's opinion on the different How-To lessons, or just call it quits right here? It's up to you!**

**Also, I kinda want to make this fic sort of interactive. If you want to partake in this, leave me a review. Tell me a little bit about yourself, why you love Dean, Sam, or the show in general, and leave me a quirky, snazzy comment like the one Yohko made…and maybe I'll put it into the next chapter and give you a shout-out. ;) **

**Next Lesson: Vampires**

**So, worth a try? Let me know!**


	2. Lesson two: Vampires

**Warning: Spoilers for Seasons 3 and 6. **

**Shoutout:**

**Paranormal Para Girl**: _I liked it! Now I'm not sure how much Dean Winchester would have actually written...it's alot of words! :P This is something every SPN€ needs to know! How to survive! And who better to teach us than...yum...Dean. Can't wait to hear more about the slaughter of vamps!_

**Dean's Response: **….Well you're in luck sweetheart. The slaughter of vamps is my specialty! ….Sort of! But hey come on now! I read! I can come up with a ton of words…just watch me! Anyways, beware P.P.G. It might get a little grisly from here on out! ;)

**Warning:** To all Twihards out there! Please take this chapter with a grain of salt! Come on, this is _me_ –the classic smartass- we're talking about! You know I have to mention it somewhere.

Let's carry on…

**Lesson Two: Vampires**

Listen up all you Buffy freaks! You're gonna need a lot more than spiffy boots, a pair of shades, and a stake for these guys. In fact, better yet, if you think someone may be a blood-sucking fiend, do us all a favor…and run!

Forget the garlic. Forget the hope of day-break. It doesn't work on these suckers –not in this show anyway!

Vampires, a.k.a. Liquor-smelling Jackals, as I'm sure we are all aware of tend to look just like_ US_ –only on the paler, creepier side. You know for the longest time before I was introduced to one, I never believed in them, strictly placing them in the farce myth file. My father had told me once that he believed them to be extinct.

Well, surprise, surprise…they continue to flock among us.

Vampires are in many ways like wolves. They move in packs, also known as a "nest", have an Alpha, and/or leader of that particular grove, and like to hunt in systematic strategies. They're nasty, vile, alcoholic, and most of the time, reek of dead meat. You can't miss em'.

The main differences being than what you typically see in _Bram Stoker's Dracula_, _Twilight_, or _True_ _Blood_, are that they have two rows of serrated teeth, not just two little pointer sticks on the lateral incisor; can survive in sunlight –though it tends to give them a nasty headache; and have a Tapetum Lucidum, or basically a phosphorescence in their retina.

In other words, their eyes glow!

You see any of these characteristics, or hear about them…again, run! Of course by the time you see the teeth, you're probably chow.

So what you want to do in that case –now I know it might sound sick, but bear with me here- keep a vile of Dead Man's blood in your purse or pocket. Trust me, I know how it sounds. But Dead Man's Blood (you know? Blood from a dead man) –you can acquire this either at a funerary home or morgue- is considered highly toxic to them, and I've used it more times than I can count. The shit works! Just one hit and they keel over like a dog that lapped up _Swiffer_ mix.

The first time I saw this in effect was when my Dad, Sam, and I were on a hunt in Colorado. Not so surprisingly I was staged as bait, appearing like a lone traveler fixing up his car. My Dad and my brother took cover in the bushes. As planned, the nest's leader's mate and her burly guard "Chief" –I think that was his name…I don't remember. It was some big ass dude- had come by. Some sweet-talking here and a little ass-kicking there, the vamp had me good in her clutches. Luckily being bait worked as my Dad shot each down with a crossbow arrow dipped in the dead man's blood. They both fell like a sack of potatoes. My brother and I carted away the mate, as we needed her to set a trap for the leader. My Dad killed Chief with one quick swipe at the neck.

And that's something else. Keep a _machete _on hand.

Hold up! What did I just say? Uh huh fellas. I'm sure you heard me plain and clear. Keep a sharp blade nearby, because the only way to kill these pointy-tooth bastards is by decapitation. Ladies, make sure you don't wear your best when out, because it can get a bit messy. Bullets don't work. Again sunlight only comes off as a wicked sunburn. And silver is literally a joke in defense. You could use silver…but it won't get you anywhere.

Or well…my brother used barbed wire one time. He did a Buffy move and sliced that vamp's head clean off. But you have to get real close to do that…and since our asses were literally handed to us that night, we've stuck with the machetes since then. Plus, I've also used a hand-saw to lop off a head or two...and the mess? I had to replace my jacket just to give you a clue...and I liked that jacket!

So yeah! Dead Man's Blood and a Machete, and you're good to go.

But make sure you have someone who's trained with you at all times whenever you're around an isolated farmtown. They like to roam around places with lots of cover…like the woods, and barns. Of course, now I'm hearing crowded clubs and strip joints are the place to be now-a-days. So word to the wise: don't go anywhere alone. Capieshe!

Okay, once you've got your Buffy Bodyguard, your syringe of corpse's blood, and a working sharp machete, you're fine to go about your day…or whatever it is that you do. If you do happen to be approached by a vampire, a key factor you need to be made aware of: STAY AWAY FROM THEIR BLOOD!

The only way for them to turn you –make you into one of them, because they do conduct the draft system on occasion (I learned the hard way) – is for you to ingest their coagulated plasma. Not only is it gross, but you are then a vampire…for ETERNITY!

There was a time a few years ago where a vamp by the name of Deacon went around certain clubs and spiced women's drinks with his blood. Trying to build his, and I quote, "family" that way. Well, all he ever got was a bunch of squirrelly blond chicks that had a voracious appetite and left a cookie-crumb trail all over the place. Great for us! Bad for them!

And why I know so much, because believe it or not, yours truly was at one time…a vampire. My brother and I were on this case when one night I was following a possible vamp into an alley and a big behemoth mother got a hold of me and tore me a new one. He purposefully bled into my mouth…and just a few hours later, I was about ready to hurl myself in front of a train.

Everything, every physical sense was super sensitive. And when I say sensitive, I mean my hearing, my smell, my sight was like I had took a horse-sized dose of Meth. I could hear a heart beating a mile away, could smell a flock of deer several miles out of town, could see through the dark, oh, and sprint at the speed of light. It may sound like freaking Superman…and let me tell you, it was an experience like no other. But then there came the insane appetite for blood.

For a time, I didn't think I was going to make it. The smell was even more tempting than a juicy cheeseburger after a three day fasting. As a hunter, you're probably wondering why I didn't blow my head off right away…well, first off, a headshot isn't going to do shit…second off, luckily my Grandfather was around and had told me of a cure.

That's right, there is a cure. And it freaking sucks (excuse the pun)! It smells and tastes of ass. Of course, not only did we have to find magical ingredients from all around the world, but also the main important ingredient was the blood of the vamp that had turned me. So really, you need backup in order to take on those dudes. That guy was over 600 years old. I had my work cut out for me. By the end of it, I was practically hopping to take that stew of crap. The sound of blood pumping in my ears was so loud, I couldn't concentrate. It hurt like Hell. And the cure hurt even worse. It reeked, tore me in two, but it had changed me back to normal. It was a million in one shot…but those are my kind of odds.

So use Extreme Caution. Just one drop! That's all it takes people, from a cut, a scrape, Hell chugging it from a True Blood bottle…you get this inside you –not only are you taking a hit from the nastiest virus around, and not only is it going to feel like a double whammy of an LSD acid trip- but there's that whole hunger for sucking blood thing…it's not fun for you –well maybe for you-,but not your victim- and in the end, it's gonna end messy for the both of us.

So yes, watch out for vamp blood. I hear it's all the rage at Hot Topic right now. Heed the warning on the label people. They ain't kidding!

Or if it's your first time out hanging with the Twihards, wrap yourself in cellophane or something like that. Vamps love to prey on the obsessively brainless. They're not gonna sparkle in the sunlight people. No, they'll either dig into you like you're yesterday's roadkill, or bring you to the dark side –cookies or not. And if the Edward-wannabe with the poofy hairdo and stellar plastic teeth convinces you anyway to take a hefty dose of the Ew-Goo…well, I'll put it to you this way…_you will become scum, and I will kill you_. *smiley face*

Many of you reading this may think I'm insane or have one too many screws-loose. Well, I'm here to tell you: you're not wrong! After a couple of decades doing clean up on aisle five of Monsters-R-Us, you tend to view things a little differently. Let's just try and avoid becoming those nut-jobs with the cardboard signs reading "The End is Upon Us" –but with capital letters all in the wrong places- shall we?

Vampires are not fun to hang around with. Despite _Twilight_'s whole take on the matter. It may just be me, but I, for one, still don't get the hype about falling in love with a vampire. And I'll tell you why:

1) Okay, okay, they have the whole immortality thing working for them. _Whoohoo! Yadida!_ That just gives them plenty of time to come up with some new Kama Sutra moves—that's about as much as they're worth. Besides the fact, they live, you're still worm food.

2) Kissing a vampire. They got them pointy ass teeth! Try getting your tongue stuck on one of those babies. Ouch!

3) You know how cold they are. Like friggin' Popsicles on legs. When you want a cuddle-buddy, why in the _hell_ would you want to cuddle up with an ice-cube? Unless you're that way -which some people are- so I won't go there…

4) You do realize that when you sleep with a vampire, you're automatically labeled as a necrophiliac. Sure, they may be walking and talking, but I don't give a shit, they're still dead!

So I just don't get the hype.

"_Oh, I'm so irrevocably in love_."

Honey, you've got issues!

Any questions?

…

**So? Was it up to par? Leave me a quirky review and I may put it into the next chapter! P.S. A major thank you goes out to the individuals who have reviewed so far for this. Don't worry, I'll mention you all somewhere! ;)**

**Next Lesson: Demons.**

**Cheers!**


	3. Lesson three: Demons

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Was caught up with work and writing letters to my brother in Marine Bootcamp. Spoilers for season 1 and 2.**

…...

_Message from Dean:_

Sorry for the wait mis _Deanamigos_! Yours truly was caught on some really strange case with a succubus…it was a lot of fun…ahem…_terrible_ to get through, and I had to take some time off to recover, i.e. get a series of booster shots. But that's okay, Sammy came out in one piece though, and I'm sure the little bitch is gloating about it…

Take from last chapter:

**Elusivepoet:** _Lots of good info on vamps! I'll have to find a way to get ahold of some dead mans blood and a machete! Any tips on how to get into a morgue or a funeral home for the blood?_

Well before I answer your inquiry Poet, I need to ask you a question. Can you act?

Sometimes posing as a Fed or local reporter (though I would stick with the Fed) can get you access whereas a regular Joe Smoe wouldn't. Easily get yourself in there, ask the coroner or Med Examiner to go get something, and once they're gone, look in a nearby fridge, find a jar filled with red goo, and then _bada bing bada boom_ you're good to go.

Or if you really want to do it the hard way and by surreptitiously sneaking in at night: first, locate a nerd and hack yourself into the security system and cut off the alarms. Afterwards, stroll right on in and grab you some!

Good luck and have fun breaking the law Poet! ;)

Alright now on to lesson three: **Demons.**

A.K.A. Whiny bitches!

And this is where you're going to have to resort back to the warnings in chapter one. These babies aren't easy to take down, so you're gonna need that salt, angry Latin skills, and a marker.

"…_they are black eyed freaks for sure!"_ –**P.P.G**

Girl, you got it!

Again these guys are no picnic…more like a blizzard in the tropics. They're weird, badass, sassy, and annoying. And, once more, they tend to look just like us. Only the difference being they do have solid black eyes, and with a flick of the wrist they can fold your bony ass like a human origami.

Yes, that means they have mystical powers.

Wow, that came out cornier than I thought. Hmmm….

**Demons**, to Professor Langdon it, originally begin as humans. _Oh who would ever guess!_ Meaning they're spirits…spirits who have gone to Hell and back—

-**Intermission:** **Yes, to those who turn a deaf ear to the preaching maniacs, Hell is an otherworldly plain that does exist…and it sucks. Do good, because it's not fun frying up like a Shish-ka-bob and tuning the "smoking body" melody. **

—Basically the fathomless pit of evil, Hellfire, and roasting human marshmallows, cook these spirits so well done, they become evil, and angry. So when –_or if_- they escape from the devil's playpen, well guess what? They want some fun…_starting with us._

So look out, because their idea of fun isn't Disneyworld and a nice cocktail!

No, they'll probably skin your wife alive and lock your in kids in a car trunk on a hundred degree day while they cash out all of your bank accounts and live the high life. Seriously.

And how they do that is…by possessing you.

Yup, ghost possession 101. Do you remember the Shining?

Well…it's kinda like that.

Technically demons are ghosts…ghosts that need an attitude adjustment. Physically, they come off as an enormous black cloud, that reeks and shits out sulphur (which stinks like rotting eggs, so it's kinda hard to miss it), and jumps you by sliding down your throat. Nasty image, I know. I can't guarantee that it'll be completely pain-free, but usually it's a lot less gruesome than Emily Rose.

I can't really describe to you what it's like, but according to Sammy, when a person is being possessed, they feel like they're asleep for a long time –until the demon wakes the soul up inside and torments him or her by showing what it's doing with their body, ergo kill someone. You try watching yourself slit somebody's throat and have no power in stopping it. Yeah, it's no cakewalk, that's for sure. Demons try to blend in with humans as much as possible, but eventually their bad habits and plans for destruction sneak through.

But hey, look on the bright side. Their mischievous tendencies light up like a Las Vegas beacon for hunters. _Winning!_

The first ever possession that happened to our little family was our Dad. For a while, Sam and I had no idea that he was possessed –the bastard was that good in blending in. Only it was lucky that I knew my dad in and out, and some of the words he said felt totally off. It wasn't long before it was revealed the demon had jumped his bones, and _boy_ was that an ass-kicking I'll never forget. And not even a year later, my brother. It took me a little while longer to figure out that Sam was possessed too, but as they say: _Late is better than Never_.

Now if I were to account all the times Sam and I have met these fugly bitches…this thing would end up being longer than _War and Peace._ And that first page I read was boring enough! So let's not do that, shall we? Let's just get to the meat and potatoes of this lesson.

Typically the signs to look out for those who are possessed are:

….well, obviously, if their eyes turn _**black**_.

But that's not totally true. Demons do have class systems; and usually ones higher up on the Richter Scale have different colored corneas. For instance, the demon bastard that killed our mother and introduced us into this shit-hole of a life; his eyes were yellow. _Can't miss that!_

Other badass demons we've messed with in our life, their eyes were white. And let me tell you, you don't want to cross them either. Just play ignorant and be on your merry way. Though by the time you reach a yard or so, you're already dead. They can do that, FYI! Zap your ass from several yards away? You betcha.

The lesser demons will have the black eyes, or if they're in sales: red. Warning, watch out for those suckers! These demons like to play the "Trading Souls" game. They typically seek out the depressed or socially challenged. So if I were you, take some "Zoloft", get friends, or go on a dating site, because these guys will try every trick out of the book to coerce you into selling your soul.

They'll make you think that selling your soul is just the cherry at the top of the chocolate Fondu station…when, really, you'll get a small taste of the high life for a good ten years (if you're lucky) and then its time to pay up.

And by pay up, I mean the contract is terminated by you mauled to death by a vicious, invisible Fido and your soul dragged to the hotbox for eternity.

Speaking from experience, I'm not kidding. Only thank God…ahem, I should say Castiel, I received a Get-Out-Of-Jail free card. More on that in the next lesson.

…..also, you should look out for any unusual personality change, but only in the more extreme.

No, I don't mean the conflicting love triangle between the kid you have a crush on and your best friend. It'll be more like if your crush is a care-free loving person and then suddenly goes off the deep end, like, say, goes on a murder spree.

Changes like that _usually_ indicate a demon.

Just remember they do this for kicks, so there is no "negotiating" with them. You got that Kevin Spacey? But you can so _**get**_ them back.

Now it's time for weapon detail.

First and foremost you need _**Salt**_. (Yep, remember the condiment in chapter one.) As I've said, these guys are like Ghosts and, believe it or not, salt repels spirits. Make a line of salt along your windowsills, around your doors, and it will keep them at bay (…of course, _**IRON**_ works too!). They CANNOT cross over them, no matter how much they try. Plus, I hear that they do make certain Pepper Sprays out of Sodium molecules. Ha, that'll teach the bitch. Spray them with it and they'll back off quick as if you just called out "I have the Plague".

However, they are sneaky. So it might be best to keep a canister of _**Holy Water**_ on you. This stuff hurts like fuck if you're a Hell Bitch. Holy Water is and always has been a way of testing whether someone is a demon. Remember the tests the boys performed on the unsuspecting date in _Lost_ _Boys_? Hey, it may not have worked on a vamp, but it sure does with a demon. Or you can always just let slip "_Christo_". It means "_Christ_" in Latin, and a demon will either flinch or their eyes blacken.

Best have that Holy Water available if you do that, otherwise you're in deep shit at that particular moment if the demon reveals itself.

Alright, now if you do happen to cross a demon, don't panic. This is where you'll need a good pair of running shoes and a marker.

Have you ever heard of something called the "Key of Solomon"?

No?

That's okay, I figured as much.

The Key of Solomon, or as my surrogate father Bobby Singer would say, is a "Satanic Roach Motel". Demons check in, but they don't check out. In Laymen's terms, it's a "Devils Trap". This is a unique symbol made in the form of a _**Pentagram**_ -with distinct markings and sigils inside.

[Insert Drawing Here]

You draw this puppy under a floormat, above a door on the ceiling, under a car (my personal favorite), anywhere you can think of that's less conspicuous; and once a demon crosses into one, they're completely and totally STUCK! No getting out, unless you damage the lines. Inside this Hebrew-original pictogram, the demons' powers are innocuous. They can't harm you (unless it's the bigger guys), but you can harm them.

Plus, you might want to draw some form of the little design on your body. It can save you from possession. Either a trinket or charm will work. But if you want to go with the safer and cooler way: get it tattooed. Just like a condom, it's 99.99 % effective.

Take it easy. Don't go drawing little pentagrams everywhere including the sidewalks –you don't want to get the neighbors talking. But also you don't want to tip these guys off, because they can break the line before they step into them once they're aware. Or if they're badass like Meg, they can conjure up some hidden mojo and break the line from inside.

So once you've captured your demon, it's time to send their sorry ass back to Hell. This is where you'll need your spiffy Latin skills. In order to do the job properly, you have to read off a certain passage –correctly, which means pronunciation. This passage also contains the power to draw the spirit out of the body and send them out of this realm and into the next. But you've gotta do it quick, otherwise they'll get pissed, and find a way to snap your neck in under 0.3 seconds. Okay? No pressure!

Here, read off this, and you'll be A-Okay:

_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. _

_Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremiscue et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt Ut inimicos sanctae. _

_Ecclesiae humiliare dignere, te rogamus, audi nos._

It's a mouth full for sure. And the first time you read through it, it'll sound more like you've got peanut-butter stuck in your molars, but have no fear my friends. That's why they have _Hooked on Phonics_!

You have to keep in mind you don't want your demon hanging around inside the magic circle for too long. So it's wise to have mastered that tongue-twister before you trap one. Because if you fail, and they escape? …well, need I go on?

You get the gist, right? Pulled Pork will look a lot better than you at that present time. ;)

Alright, to close the lesson for the day, let's make sure you have your Salt, your on-hand Latin tutor, the "Key of Solomon" postered on your wall, a nifty demon metal-detector, and a pair of good running shoes; and you're set!

Good luck

Oh and one more thing:

_**Madebyme:**_ _I'd love to see that bravado slip for a second, for us a see a glimmer of what's underneath that game-face!_

Dear M:

In this day and age, it's not beneficial to me if I let that bravado slip. Don't you think I've cried enough? *smiley face*

**Next Lesson: Angels…. Dicks!**


	4. Lesson Four: Angels

**Dean's Message to fans:**

***CeCeAway: **Dean did not just write "winning". Slaps back of head and snorts. Too funny. Out of all the hunter's journals, this is the one I would want to read.

**Dean's Response: **Why thank you sweetheart. I'm happy to know that at least one of us will be reading this. And yes, I did write "Winning". I met up with Charlie a while back. He's great…and so was the _pot_ we smoked in the back.

***Mamaprayanama: **Awesome. I can't wait to hear your take on angels and I'm looking forward to more smarmy sarcasm. Thanks for sharing this! :D

**Dean's Response**: Guess what? You got it!

**P.P.G: **Joby87 and Dean, Awesome chapter! Thanks for all the helpful info. I feel pretty secure that after some practised Latin I too can gank a few demons. One question...does the tattoo need to be in a certain spot on your body to be more powerful? Just wondering...  
Mel

**Dean's Response: **Well Mel, no you don't really need to have it in any specific spot. You can have it on both your ass cheeks and it still won't matter. But as long as you have it, you're good!

**And to my dear Zanavield: **Good guess! ;)

* * *

**Warning: Spoilers for Season Four.**

_**Lesson 4: Angels**_

aka Winged Dicks with a Vulcan attitude.

Do any of you church-goers when you hear Angel immediately think of a cherub with a cute baby face and fluffy wings? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're flat out WRONG!

Just like it says in the bible, these dudes are ruthless, electric-bolt carrying, emotionless terminators. Kinda like a burrito without the flaming hot sauce and sour cream. _A major buzzkill_ when it comes to the hunting repertoire. Back to the basics, these guys are warriors for Heaven and will smite a cockroach if Heaven commands it.

Meaning, these puppies are one of the top dogs in the Monster Encyclopedia.

Just like the vamps, these guys I also thought didn't exist. Mainly because there presented the mind-fucking dilemma: if these halo-wearing jackasses walk the plain, then so does the Man Upstairs, right? And if he did exist, then why would we be dealing with the Monster Horror Picture Show on a daily basis? But that's a whole other controversy I dare not get into…because I_ really_ don't have all day to argue.

Now you can choose to believe in them, or not…it's your choice. But in my line of work, these guys do exist, and they ain't cute! Nevermind naked with the cherry cheeks!

If you really want a good visual of what these Dudley Do-Rights look like, well then take a good look in the mirror. Focus. And then tell me what you see.

That's right. Humans! Who would ever guess?

I know, tell me about it. The budget sucks! But then again, it's a cool cheap undercover, especially if you want to blend in. And all you have to do if you want to find one of them is to locate the nearest asswipe who acts like they have a stick up their ass, and who act like their mightier than God…..

….well, okay, that can be a lot of people. But the main sign would be if your fellow friend, neighbor, or even spouse happened to suddenly don a stoic expression, talk in a deep raspy voice, and incessantly call you a mindless, hairless ape….then more than likely you came across an Angel. The majority is pretentious, pretend they're holier-than-thou, and always, always have a mission to carry out.

Watch out for these bitches, because they do mean business when if comes to their _orders_! If they say they have a mission from God and don't have that rabid look about them? Do me a favor and step out of the way. All it takes is one Jedi hand gesture and you're fried crispier than a cheeto! M'kay!

Though the only issue right now is that some of them absolutely despise humans…so if you cross one of them…then I guess you're SOOL (Shit-out-of-Luck).

But I guess it all depends on the angel.

Speaking of…let me tell you about my friend Castiel.

And Cas is an Angel. From afar, he looks like a tax accountant who needs an appointment at the Hair Cuttery and a new wardrobe. Just to give you a clue about angels, Cas has been wearing the same thing (suit and a trenchcoat) since I've known him. It makes you wonder if he has his own dry cleaning service. How do they stay so clean and fresh?

But before I can really go into details about my feathery friend (Yes, they do have wings. For some odd reason or another, you can only see them if there is a lightning storm shadow effect…don't ask!) I need to tell you about my initial experience that led me to meeting Cas.

For starters, this beautiful thing went to Hell.

_What_? You say. Yup, I'm a walking and talking Ripley's Believe it or not survivor of the fiery downstairs.

Remember that soul-dealing thing I was telling you about in the last lesson? Well, there's a reason why I know it so well. I sold my soul.

But all for a good reason, I assure you.

See, a few years ago that Yellow-Eyed Demon bastard had kidnapped my brother to be a part of this psychic celebrity death-match...and needless to say Sam didn't make it. Some of you may know what a sibling's death feels like, and for others not so much. Have you ever taken a railroad spike and sledgehammer to your chest? Well, it feels a lot like that.

It could have been my grief, or my anger of being alone and being the last of the Winchesters that led me to finding a _crossroads_ (two roads that intersect…especially ones out in the middle of nowhere) and inciting the _spell_ (I won't tell you what it is in case some of you weirdoes actually intend on finding that one saucy senorita in making a deal).

Case in point, a beautiful, hot woman showed up and we struck a deal: my soul if she made Sam alive again. Now, you're probably thinking that I might have had ten glorious years to spend with my brother as the usual deal would go…well, no, once again, you scored incorrectly. I guess because it was me, Mr. High-n-Mighty Hunter extraordinaire, she only gave me _a year_.

Oh yeah, crazy would have been an understatement to some people. Correctomundo! But at least I got my brother back. And a year left to live.

And if you want to know something scary? You try putting a countdown to your life…it'll make you shit your pants, no doubt about it. At least with Fate floating around, you haven't a clue of when you'll bite the big one….I'll take that any day after that experience.

So to make this long ass story short, my time, eventually, was up! And that invisible Fido…aka a Hellhound…came to collect. Another reason for not giving up that ethereal material floating inside that meatsuit of yours: being some dog's chew toy is not the way to go, trust me! ;)

What happened next I'll keep to myself. And you need to know that Hell's time is a hell of a lot different than our time. In a way, it's like doggy years. Up here I was gone for a good, maybe, four months. Down there, it was a good, maybe, _forty years_.

Yeah, no kidding.

But luckily I had a little angel about to set his perch on my shoulder, because after that long fiery samba I was kicking down below, I suddenly found myself in a pine box. And that only meant one thing!

Life down below! I never thought I would actually take part in the phrase "six feet under".

Not long after I came to that conclusion, I had to bust my way out of that one and climb out of the grave.

See what I mean about our lives suck. You try popping out of the ground like a freaking daisy and see if you can keep all your marbles in a sack. Especially as after I pulled myself through the turf and dying weeds, I found me all by my lonesome and soon had to take a long hike in the middle of a barren No Mans Land. .

Well, you're probably wondering what I did after I got all my ducks lined up in a row, and I guess the obvious answer behind the curtain was to track down my family. Thank Jehovah's Witnesses they were in tact. Obviously the main culprit I concluded to be behind my previous resurrection was Sam, since that kid practically is a genius. But to my, and to Bobby's, and a lot of demons dismay, it wasn't the geek. So that left another option…which if you think about it, is kinda scary. Usually when shit like this goes down, the conductor typically wants a down payment.

There is no "you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours". It's more "I help you, you do what I say or I'll give you an encore of Hell's theater show" ordeal in the SPN realm.

So Bobby and I were left with only one thing to do…track he –or she- down. I had to know. So by speaking every single possible conjuring spells known to man, and also painting every single possible trapping design known to creatures alike inside this warehouse, we waited for my invisible savior to show.

And that he did.

But it was nothing like a simple _I Dream of Genie_ popping in and out like regular monsters…oh hell no! It was more like lights exploding, ground quaking, ear-shattering noise, very much similar to an F4 tornado. Once the grand show began, in stepped through the barn doors was a squirrelly man not a foot shorter than I. Talk about overcompensating for something!

Yeah, and that's something else you need to know about angels…you can't see their true form, or hear their real voice. Just ask poor Pamela, a psychic friend of Bobby's, who as a favor for us tried to invoke Castiel. Unfortunately because she had seen his true form, her eyes burned out of her skull.

See what I mean. Close your eyes, get an extra pair of sunglasses, and while you're at it, maybe some Bose Headphone gear…because you will go deaf if they try talking to you. I can't tell you how much blood I had to wipe out of my ears and how much ringing I heard after the second time Cas made a call.

And this probably makes you wonder why then they decide to look like us. Well, truth be told, they need to possess a certain 'human' or in Angelic vocabulary, a vessel: a human body preordained to carry and hold an Angel.

Yup! Kinda like the lottery. It's a one in a ten-thousand chance. And trust me, once that particular angel has found his or her intended vessel, they will try every trick out of the book, throw every bribe, and then some to use you. Why? Because they can't arbitrarily possess you like a demon would. You have to give consent. So no harm done, really.

So I met Cas. After spelling out that apparently God had a mission for me, we went on this whole crusade against the uprising of our dear pal Lucifer. You know? The Devil. Well, that's something else I won't get into. But poor ole Cas eventually became good friends. He's a cool guy, but it takes some getting use to.

And that's another thing about angels: they have no sense of humor. Cas's sense of humor was wound tighter than a knat's ass on steroids. It took a long, long time for him to loosen up to my charm…..but, it's not like he had a choice. He did get kicked out of Heaven and was stuck with me for a while. *shrugs innocently*

Despite what some egotistical professor might say, Angels are not totally marble-like. They can change. I'll give you an example. In the beginning, Cas was ready to wipe out an entire town. Not long after I rubbed off on him, he was eager to go to a Whore-House. Ohhh, good times!

It doesn't get much better than that. They have no sense of humor and they're near impossible to kill.

Probably now the hairs on the back of your neck are at a stand still and the sweat is beading, and you're really hoping that there is a source of defense against the bloodhounds. I won't lie to you, there is.

_Ehhhh_…you can possibly tell there is a _but_ coming…and you're not wrong!

There is only one weapon against an angel: and that is the sword from an Archangel. Yeah, the scary ones like Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Raphael…need I go on?

They're quite small, pointy, and are portable. It even fits in your carry-on. Now they're coming out with pocket-size. Great to have anywhere…..

[Insert Visual]

…anyway, stick this bad boy square in the Love Muscle, and adios compadre. Shield your eyes though. Once these guys' lifeforce has been extinguished, it becomes brighter than Times Square on New Years. But I guarantee you it won't be easy. In most cases, you'll be dead long before you get close. But you know, nothing about this job is easy.

And if you can't afford, or really get one, then it's best to know these types of sigils:

[Insert drawings of Angel Fly-Swatters]

Mostly these drawings are easy to draw. It's just a circle with Pre-school squares and curves inside. Only they're only effective by drawing them in blood, and by pressing your hand into the middle. You do this, it tosses these guys back into the Outfield. And then get the hell out of dodge. Once they come back, you'll be numero uno on their hit-list. Keep drawing them everywhere and you'll be good to go. Just don't run out of blood. Cuz what's the point right?

Hope that helps, and good luck with the frisky Jedi warriors with an attitude. ;)

Another message from a fan:

**Silvercougarcub**: Freakin' awesome, man! If ya ever need help with research and poor lil' Sammy's sleeping off an all-nighter with Jim, Jack and Jose', lemme know!

—Oh goodie Cougar, I'm gonna need that help. Sam's just had about five fruity cocktails; something called "Delete the Day". Well, it sure deleted his day and he is currently giving tribute to the porcelain goddess. And from what it sounds like…it might take a while…

* * *

**Next and Final Chapter…Odds and Ends…meaning whatever's left! **


	5. Lesson Five: Odds and EndsFinale

**A/N**: **It is with deep regret that I return after so long. Life practically has had its ups and downs this past year, mainly downs. But I'm happy to report that I am back and ready for action. The story is complete, so enjoy. **

**Dean's Note**: GOOD MORNING VIETNAMMMMMM!

I'M BACK!

…..And moving on:

_**Madebyme:**_"Awesome chapter! You totally capture Dean's voice and I loved all the snarky humour and sarcasm.

Neat job too drawing in all the little bits of information we've leant about demons over the last 6 seasons. I don't know how you do it without giving yourself a headache!

And finally a little message for Dean...

Thanks for the shout out and as a thank you I'll let you into a secret. While that smile of yours works like a charm on most girls, really all we want is much simpler; just show the real guy behind the grin and the mask you hind behind. Just some food for thought...

Looking forward to the next instalment.

**Dean's Response**: Sorry Abby, it's been awhile. Turns out that dear ole Sammy boy has had a few issues – which I prefer not to get into at the present time- and dealing with icky, goopy monsters as of late. They're a hot new item on the _monster-r-us_ menu. You'll get the real guy in this chapter. Believe me! He's too stupid to make up!

* * *

**Spoilers: All Seasons!**

_Lo Siento Mis Amigos_, Sam and I have had a particularly awful year. We've been getting our asses kicked since the theorized apocalyptic year of 2012 began. Our buddies Jim and Jose's influence has lost its sway and my baby's on lockdown. No, seriously, I'm driving a Buick as we speak! A freaking Buick! I would love to say our extended absence has been due to a long overdue _vacay _action with some **Casa Erotica**, Cervesas, and…and…dammit! What's Spanish for "**Donkey Show**" again?

Anyways, none of the aforementioned occurred. Instead we've been up to our eyeballs with a literally sticky situation. It's even a job that _Mr. Clean_ can't handle…

…but I don't care to indulge in that gooey, doppelganger fun….not yet!

Okay, where were we? Basics, Vamps, Demons, Angels, so that leaves….oh yeah! Everything else!

But I don't have that kind of time. Remember, I'm only naming off a few of the basic common ones, because, you see, we're still learning too. Let's start off with the more notable one: _**Shape-shifters.**_

Get ready boys and girls, grab a bucket, and some Dramamine if you got it! These bad guys put the _gr_ in _gross. _They can't really help it since most shape-shifters are born that way. But others like werewolves, they're turned.

Shape-shifters, as you've guessed it, are monsters that can change its shape to match another living thing, ergo a human. Or in a werewolf's case: only a vicious wolf that'll eat your heart out. Most of the time, a shape-shifter will morph into another human being, sometimes kill the original host, or frame them, as they go on a self-indulged killing and robbing-bank and liquor-store spree.

The first time Sam and I have encountered a shape-shifter was during the year we went searching for dear ole dad. One of Sam's friends from Stanford had called telling us that her brother was framed for killing his girlfriend. Problem was the time the neighborhood video has him leaving the house after offing said GF, the brother was with said sister at the exact same time. So of course, what do we do? We investigate….

Why oh why, did we have to investigate this case?

The aftermath of this very case had the cops riding my and Sam's ass for years.

We watched the tape seeing up close that it was indeed the chick's brother who left the house…but we also caught a very interesting aspect. His eyes lit up like moonbeams. Freaky spectral imaging, maybe? Nope, we knew right then we were dealing with something. But we weren't quite sure what yet.

Until we did a little digging, and found out we were dealing with a shape-shifter. Trust me, these guys aren't as sexy as Mystique. These dudes, all they have to do to be your doppelganger is touch you, and then – careful, watch your shoes ladies – the skin literally falls off and refigures itself until you're looking directly at yourself.

If you're ready to upchuck, here's where you'll need that bucket!

Soon eventually when we had figured out what it was, the damn thing copied ME! ME! And as ME, it beat up Sam's friend, beat up Sam, tied me to a pole, and who knows what else it had in mind. These freaks, since they're born this way, have had severe insecurity issues – "I'm a monster, blah blah" – so they take out all their pent up frustration and anger by robbing banks, going on random killing sprees, oh, and re-create monster movies. That I have to say was pretty fun…except when the damn thing drugged me and dressed me in a lederhosen.

Oh you betcha, Sam still has mileage on that one!

Oh don't worry, we caught the bastard as he was tearing into my brother and put two bullets in him. I'm not gonna lie, it was pretty weird killing myself, but hey, how many people can say they've actually attended their own funeral! Granted, I missed mine, but whatever. I'm over it!

Except when my mug showed up on the evening news in a bank one night, also in the midst of another shape-shifter case, therefore having the Feds on my ass…..still have the feds on my ass! Dammit!

The weapon of choice, if any of you know your Lycanthrope lore: anything with Silver. Silver bullets; Silver knife; Silverware. Whatever that has actual silver in it, and none of that fake shit, that'll kill em'. One straight hit to the heart, and you're good to go. Though it would be easier if you had a gun. With a knife, it would mean you'd have to get up close and personal with the bastards. Don't take this for granted, some of these guys have been hunting and killing a long time. They're not easy to take down. To avoid them, however, try to dress dirt poor. They like shiny things. So if you dress to impress and have the gold to pull it off, watch out!

Remember, dress as a bum, carry silver bullets on you (especially during a full moon), and/or a silver knife, and don't go marching in to save the day during a bank robbery. They will frame you without a second's pause. Kay?

Next up: _**Witches!**_

First off, I have to get this off my chest….YUCK! Witches are so…so…_skeevy! _

Nasty, all the way around, with their body fluids, hex bags, killing rabbits, chuckin' curses at people they don't like….or if they're taking revenge out on a loved one. I mean, the list goes on. These broads usually aren't the prettiest either.

The first one we ever set eyes on was when Sammy was six years old, and this evil thing in a homeless-styled black cloak came in and began sucking the life out of him. A "Shtriga" my dad called it: a type of witch that sneaks into kid's bedrooms and suck out their life-force. Unfortunately it got away, but eighteen years later it came back. It typically sucked the energy from kids, and they would go into a severe comatose state. Only when the bastard was shot dead –which is really tricky, by the way, since it's only vulnerable when it's feeding off something – were the kid's brought back to life, so to speak. Poor Sam. If it wasn't for him being tossed around like a ragdoll, held down helplessly while this thing seemingly did CPR on him, and was actually sucking him dry, I wouldn't have had a clean shot to the frontal lobe. And then voila! The heroes saved the day!

I only _wish_ that was the only kind of witch there was.

You see, anyone can open a book of black magic and start speaking a language they don't know, or start off a chain of events they don't mean. But it's the ones that do collect an assortment of black magic books and practice it on a daily basis who you gotta watch out for. Like the Desperate Housewife Bimbos we met a few years ago.

These gals obviously were not true-to-the-core witches. But when a demon came to town, possessed one of them, and began the Murder Magic Book Club, things began to spin out of control. At first, it was all innocent, with the wives club winning all these extra fortunes like cruises, the lottery, a good business, etc. – it usually starts out that way – and then it led to certain people killed, and us being called in to check it out. We didn't know it was a demon behind the whole charade until Sammy barged in on the troupe as I was literally hacking up a lung on the carpet floor. Sam couldn't find the hex bag that laid out the curse.

Oh yeah! I forgot to mention that's how they getcha! By confiscating something off your person, and it could be anything, like lint for example, they put together a number of goodies, like charred bones, medallions, cooked garden roots, you name it, and tie em' up in a leather bag, set it in someplace near you, and then bam! You're cursed!

Curses can go a long way. I heard a guy choked on razorblades as he was eating candy. In my case, yes, I was coughing up my lungs, while others are boiled alive while dunking for apples. A number of things can happen. Hell, we came upon a very powerful witch just recently who fried a woman's head while she was at the hair salon. All because she was pissed off at her husband, who also happened to be a witch. It was a Dr. Phil battle like no other. Short story, we counseled em' as best we could and got the hell out of dodge.

Sometimes you have to pick your battles. And that one, we knew we weren't going to win.

Anyway, getting off topic here….if you think somehow you're being cursed, like say something inanimate is trying to kill you, then you need to seek out said hex bag and burn it; only way to stop the curse coming your way. And then you need to seek out the witch. Cuz once you're on their shit-list, you'll stay on it until you're six feet under. Comprende amigo?

Now witches can be anybody. But start off with a list of people who don't like you. And if you're a corporate douchebag, well, then sorry bud, you're shit out of luck. This is why being nice can be a blessing!

And if you do know, a witch is human most of the time…even the ones who are hundreds of years old. Just shoot em' and call it a day!

Another thing to mention that'll make great target practice is….wait for it…_**Fairies!**_

Yep, that's exactly what I said. _**Fairies!**_ Three words: Incandescent Grabby Douchebags. Kinda like the invisible dudes on St. Patty's Day that like to pinch. And they also like to make you think you've been abducted by aliens. Oh yes! I'm not joking.

Boy it kills me to say I'm drug free today, or that it actually is hoodoo magic from our feathery friends mentioned in chapter four…but it's not. Fairies have many names it turns out. **Sprites. Spriggins. Bogarts. And Brownies**. Oh, get this "My Little Pony" fans, they pay tribute to **Oberon**, King of the Fairies, who live in **Avalon**…..my god, I need a drink right now.

Our encounter with Oberon's servants happened around two years ago. There were a number of reports about possible 'abductions'. No, not the type you'd find in that Liam Neeson flick. But actual ALIEN abductions. So naturally, we check it out. The entire town had gone _cuckoo for cocoa puffs_ for this alien biz, a little _loco_ if you know what I'm saying. Sam and I weren't buying it. The last time we thought we stumbled upon an "alien abduction" it turned out to be a trickster/refugee archangel with a fetish for _just desserts _on guys who are dicks.

This time? Not. The. Freaking. Case!

I actually had wished it was that guy.

I went to the supposed "abduction" site…located – go figure – in a cornfield and stake out for a while. Soon my phone goes off the fritz and the next thing I know is there is a beam of bright light. Perfectly circular. Same as the light in the _Encounter of 3__rd__ Kind_. A helicopter, maybe?

Hahahahaha….no!

It starts to chase me down. So what do I do? Wait to see if it's a gimmick? Hell no! I've seen this movie. I take off. But that was pointless. It sucks me up the whole clichéd _X-Files_ way. I don't remember much of what happened…no, there wasn't any probing going on – Sam already asked – … but thank Jehovah's Witnesses I had my gun. Those bug-eyed bastards didn't have a chance. I pulled the trigger and didn't let go. If I was going down, I was going down shooting. End of story.

End of the story, with the beginning of a new story, they let me go. Ha! No one can beat the KING! …..okay? That was a joke.

After my so-called abduction and blinding return, I knew something had happened, but I wasn't sure what. I didn't figure it out until it was **Tinkerbell**, and I do mean this literally, broke down our door and decide to give me an ass-kicking. I'll say this again, "it was a little…glowing…hot…naked lady with…nipples…and she hit me." She was tough, but our battle ended my having to pizza-roll her tiny topless ass in the microwave. _Ding_! Surprisingly though, Sam claimed he couldn't see the mess left behind, so that left me to assume what the creepy lady on the street said, 'since I was a first-born male, I was chosen to serve _Oberon_, therefore only I can see them'. I know, right? Sucks to be me! Damn those Fairies.

Yah! We sought out the creepy lady off Main and she broke it all down. Apparently if these guys are called, which they have to be read off from a manual, they come, collect the first-born kids of a litter to serve their mighty evil one, and in return they make clocks and get drunk off milk. Hymph, cheap little bastards!

So were we to believe this dished out tale? What do you think?

Luckily the old kook had mentioned 'cream' and that's how we found our tiny buddies. Oh! And a leprechaun too. Hahahahaha, I forgot to mention Sam got his ass beat by a midget. Though I got my ass chucked in jail for tackling one…that turned out to be the attorney general of the town.

Yeah…whoops!

Well, Sam ended up saving the day in this case as the creepy old lady let slip that no matter what, if you pour sugar, the leprechaun and fairy must count the crystals. So as the dwarf was busy counting, Sam read off the ritual manual and banished them back to their dimension. So if by chance you come across a little dude willing to make you an offer and all you have to do is read a script, here's a tip for ya: Drop it and run. Rumpelstiltskin is a mean old midget.

So long story short, if you think you have been abducted by E.T. and his homies, think again. Just be sure to keep a cup full of sugar nearby and some cream. It'll keep em' occupied. Trust me.

Last and certainly not least in numbers: _**Ghosts**_!

Take notes Ed and Harry. I'm sure 95 percent of us know what a ghost is. For those of you who don't, watch the movie _Ghost_. Swayze is the man! He basically breaks it down for ya. Most of the time when someone kicks the bucket, a reaper shows up. What you say? The grim reaper? He exists. Well yeah. But he's not the dude who picks your ass up. It's just one of his cronies with a pale, gaunt face and is wearing a Barney Stinson suit. Unless Tessa shows up. She's a chick in some very see-all leather. Careful, she's wicked with the tongue….

She's got attitude…sheesh!

Though I do have to give the reapers some credit; they do give you a choice. I was Death for a day (I'll explain another time), and so I can vouch for this. You can choose to stay or move on. And that, my friends, is how you get a ghost: those poor guys who decide to stay.

Don't give me the line. I can't tell ya why these kooks would want to stay, but they do. And since the only way for them to move about anywhere in this world is a piece of their body, and I do mean like hair, fingernail, blood, skeleton, you name it, moves anywhere. So if the only way for them to exist in this world is their lock of hair sitting on a mantel in an old condemned shack, then voila, they're stuck in said shack…unless you burn their remains and send them on their merry way into the next world. Yep, here's where it gets juicy.

Weapon of choice: fire.

It's the basic **salt and burn** in this situation. If said ghost becomes emo and starts taking their rage and frustration out on any newcomer, then it's time to say 'adios'. Start by first figuring out who said ghost is. Then find out if they were buried or were cremated. If cremated, the mission will be just a tad bit harder as you need to figure out what other remains of their body could be. Then when you do, pour salt over it and burn the remains. Got it?

If however the ghost has caught on what you're up to, don't freak out. Yes, you're in deep shit, but that's where salt comes into play. Yes, the condiment particle mentioned in chapter one. Salt, and lots of it. Or if you have anything iron, like an old pan or an andiron by the fireplace, that'll repel the angry spirit for a moment. Watch out cuz they will rematerialize back and plow over you like a bulldozer like in _Maximum Overdrive_. Don't wait. Salt will repel it, but burning the remains will banish it. Kay? That's not hard.

However, it does mean you would have to get down and dirty. And what I mean is, if all that is left of the evil spirit is its body, then buy yourself a shovel. Hey, you wanted to know. Hope you don't mind a little illegal work, cuz I'm positively sure digging up graves is illegal in all fifty states. So pray you can dig fast.

It's not all that bad once you get used to it. All you gotta do is dig down to the gravebox, pry open the casket, and…..

* * *

"_Dude, are you talking to yourself?"_ echoed Sam's voice, whose giant silhouette could be seen amidst the washroom's door.

Dean, sitting comfortably in the motel's squeaky chair, stuttered an inaudible reply, "Ergh…um, I'm writing a memoir."

"Huh? You wanna be a masseuse?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, a masseuse! I'm practicing my mojo right now," he called back cupping his hands in mid-air and wriggling his fingers in a provocative manner. He laughed. "No, ya douche! I'm writing a memoir about…about…" he scratched his head, "you know? And I tell ya, it's gonna be a hit."

Sam then protruded from the washroom, toothbrush in mouth, with a ring of foamy fluoride encompassing his lips. "About _you know_?"

The wiggle of the eyebrows was prominent. "Oh yeah, _you know_!"

"It's actually about _you know_?" There was definitely a hint of disbelief in that tone.

"Uh huh, it's all about _you know_!"

His brother gave a guttural laugh, followed by a zealous snort. "Right! We'll see how far that will go."

"Ye of little faith Sammy. We'll see who has the last laugh?"

"Uh huh, we'll see." And he disappeared back into the room.

Much to Sam's chagrin, the memoir actually became a smashing hit off the New York's bestselling fiction unit for three weeks straight. With its popularity, Dean was able to publish three more self-hunt manuals. And nobody ever had a problem in defending themselves against the Supernatural, so the Winchester's retired….briefly.

**BANK!**

* * *

**Haha, I hope you had fun reading. To all of my other readers, whom I'm sure want to kill me right about now, I have started the sequel to "Home is where the Heart is" and will have the first part of it up shortly. Thanks so much for waiting. **

**Till next time, **

**Cheers!**


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